‘Your son has some food in his satchel,’ Caleb said.

As he worked to clear the shelter for them, Adelaide continued her vigil. She noticed something change in the atmosphere, a sudden stillness descending on the river valley in the last of the light. Adelaide looked up at the skeletal trees and frowned.

‘The wind’s dropped,’ she said.

Even as she spoke the wind turned, a southeasterly that ruffled Caleb’s hair, bringing with it a sudden and dramatic drop in the temperature.

Caleb straightened, a rock in his hand and looked around at the now silent bushland. ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? It’ll turn the fire back from Maiden’s Creek.’

Their eyes locked in mutual horror. The wind would bring the fire back in their direction. Neither of them could bring themselves to put that fear into words. Caleb swore and threw the rock hard into the river.

‘Let’s get you out of the water and into shelter,’ he said.

He lifted Danny out of the water, hefting him into his arms. The boy hung limp as Caleb carried him across the pebble-strewn watercourse and laid him on the still warm sand in front of the old adit. Adelaide followed, dripping water. She sat down beside her son, shivering as the wind cut through her wet clothes. She pulled her stockings and boots back on and turned her attention back to Danny.

Danny’s eyelids flickered but she saw no recognition in the bright feverish depths and once again the fear she could lose him tore at her. She turned her head away, hoping Caleb didn’t notice the tears that ran down her face.

‘Watch for spiders too,’ Adelaide said as Caleb returned to the task of clearing the adit. ‘We’re not the only animals looking for shelter from the fire. They can kill too.’

He sat back on his heels. ‘Snakes and spiders? What in God’s name brought me to this benighted country?’

She tilted her head to one side. ‘I don’t know. What did bring you?’

She couldn’t see his face but his shoulders tensed beneath the filthy shirt.

‘Do you really want to know?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yes. If we’re going to be honest with each other. You know my dreadful secret, it’s only fair I should know yours.’

For a long moment he said nothing. ‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I killed a man.’

The words hung between them.

‘You were a soldier …’ she began.

He turned to look at her, his face twisted into something between a grimace and smile. ‘It was nothing to do with the war.’

‘Are you going to tell me about it?’